


Human Again

by TheTeaIsAddictive



Series: The Beauty of a Beast [11]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: F/M, some much-needed explanations and apologies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeaIsAddictive/pseuds/TheTeaIsAddictive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that he's human again, Adam needs to explain some things about his curse to Belle, and apologise for other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Again

**Human Again**

Adam looked out the French windows leading onto the balcony. It was hard to believe that only last night he had been lying there, dying, still a beast, Belle crying over him. He flexed his hand experimentally, and was still surprised when the slender tendons moved in accordance with his brain. He stood up - a little shakily, admittedly - and looked around his private quarters again. 

The animal carcasses that had previously littered the room had vanished, and the furniture had been repaired to a state even better than when he had known it. The dark browns and greys that dominated were reverted back to the royal blue and gold he remembered from childhood days long past, and the old portrait of his uncle looked as though Adam - no, he wasn't Adam when he did that, he was the Beast - it looked as though the Beast had never ripped his claws across it in anger. It was rather strange, Adam thought, how right his mother had been when she had said he would look just like Felix when he was older. The red hair, the blue eyes; hell, even their height, from what he could tell from the painting. 

Just then, a small knock sounded and Mrs. Potts popped her head around the door. 

"Master, Belle would like to see you in the library, if it's convenient," the matronly housekeeper intoned. 

"Of course it's convenient," Adam said, wobbling only slightly as he made his way out the West Wing. He paused at the door to smile widely at Mrs. Potts, and the two hugged tightly before he continued at a fast pace to his love. 

His haste backfired on him almost immediately, however, when the combination of longer legs than an eleven-year-old and shorter strides than a Beast ended in him tripping on the first step and hanging onto the banister for dear life to stop falling more than halfway down. Adam shot up, cheeks burning, sincerely hoping nobody was there to see him so spectacularly flail in a way unbecoming to even a man, let alone a prince. The rest of the way he went slower than usual, using the banister for the first time in years and hoping he wouldn't be keeping Belle waiting too long. When he did walk into the library, a lot more steady than when he first started, he saw her sitting nervously on the little green sofa she usually did, biting her lip and and clasping her hands tightly. 

"Hello," Adam said gently, and her head spun around, her hair flying, the familiar dark brown. 

"Hello," she replied, swallowing slightly. She was still in her blue dress, and Adam supposed she hadn't gotten any sleep - it was severely wrinkled, and slight shadows were under her dark eyes.

"I suppose I should explain a little," Adam began, sitting on the complete opposite side of the seat so she wouldn't be crushed by the weight of muscle and fur - and it course so she wouldn't be repulsed by his hideous - 

_You're not a beast anymore,_ he suddenly remembered. _You don't have to sit so far away, for goodness sake!_ He moved closer to Belle, still leaving a respectful distance, and cleared his throat again. 

"When I was eleven," he started, "I was . . . well, to put it plainly, I was a spoiled, selfish, vain brat. One night, an old beggar woman came to the door, seeking shelter from the raging snowstorm in return for a single rose. I turned her away," the prince said, looking down so he didn't have to see the disappointment he knew would be on Belle's face. "She transformed quite suddenly into a powerful enchantress, and placed a curse upon me, so I could learn that true beauty was found within. I had until my 21st birthday to find someone I could love who would love me in return. And . . ." he concluded, "I did." Finally, he dared to look up at Belle, expecting disapproval, shock, horror or all of the above. 

She was smiling. 

"I - I don't understand," Adam stuttered. "You should be ashamed - or, or repulsed, not - not _smiling!_ " 

Her smile got bigger, and he could see she was struggling not to laugh. 

"Why are you so happy?" he asked, failing to see what Belle was so happy about. 

"You're not dead," she smiled, scooting closer to him. "You're still you," she continued, reaching up to touch his cheek. "And I love you," she finished, leaning dangerously close to his mouth. "What's not to be happy about?" she murmured, before she kissed him again. 

Adam wanted to know why she wasn't bothered by him. He wanted to know why his past didn't horrify her. But he found it awfully hard to remember why he wanted to know when a short, bossy, nosy seventeen-year-old had her fingers in his hair and a hand on his shirt and was kissing him breathless and his hands somehow magically found her small waist without even trying and he was kissing her back. It was awfully hard to remember anything when he was so in love, when he could hold her tight without worrying about hurting her, or worse, frightening her. He ran his hands lightly over her back, and she shivered. 

"I'm twenty-one," he gasped when they finally broke apart. 

"Happy birthday," she replied, her fingertips _just_ touching the place where the delicate hairs on the nape of his neck began, and she was so, so beautiful with darkened eyes and kissed lips. 

"You're four years younger than me," he continued. He wasn't sure why he was trying to find a reason for her to leave - he knew he didn't want her to - but there was no possible way she could want to stay with him, not after what he'd done in the past. 

"I'm eighteen in March, it's not that big a difference," she retorted, looking into his blue, blue eyes. "Do you not want me to stay?" she asked, starting to edge away from him. 

"No!" Adam shouted, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back beside him. "No, he repeated at a smaller volume, "I want you to stay, I just . . . don't understand why you _want_ to. I turned an old woman away!" he said. "I kept you prisoner - I locked up your father. Why would you possibly want to stay with me, after all I've done?" He looked down at her imploringly, searching for the answer in her bright, intelligent eyes. 

"Because I love you," Belle said, placing her hand on his cheek. "And I forgive you," both thinking of when she was forced to stay, "and the past is the past. We've both learned from it, Beast - oh."

She froze. 

"What?"

"I don't know your name," she said, incredulity spreading over her face. "I've lived here for three months, I love you, and I don't know your name!" She let out a little laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Adam joined her, the light tenor laugh no longer bearing any resemblance to the bass rumble he'd had before. 

"Adam," he smiled down at her. "My name is Adam."

"Well, _Adam_ ," Belle said, testing the new name out on her tongue, "shall we go have breakfast? I am a little hungry."

"Be my guest," he replied. They walked out, hand in hand, completely, undeniably, happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Adam falling down the stairs was taken from a story by The Green Archer on ff.net. 
> 
> Originally posted to ff.net on 13/09/2013


End file.
